


who's gonna hear you

by the_problem_with_stardust



Series: dancing with a wolf [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alpha Derek, Alpha Scott, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Future Fic, M/M, POV Derek, Scott means well, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 09:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11756820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_problem_with_stardust/pseuds/the_problem_with_stardust
Summary: Derek shuffles closer, until his shoulder is against Stile’s side. The chains clank, echoing in the concrete room.“This is the weirdest hallucination I’ve ever had, man. I can actually feel the heat coming off of you. Freaking werewolves.”“What if it isn’t in your head?”Stiles snorts. “He isn’t stupid enough to come back here. He got out.” He drops his chin back to his chest and adds, like an afterthought, “Lucky bastard.”





	who's gonna hear you

**Author's Note:**

> General disclaimer: I don’t own anything, but please, please, please don’t post my work anywhere without my permission.
> 
> No beta, so if you see anything glaringly wrong feel free to drop me a note in the comments.

Derek can feel the border of his territory rapidly approaching. It’s been almost a year since he left the hellhole of Beacon Hills in his rear-view mirror, eager to be free of the place. But so much had changed in one year that he feels ready – no he feels excited – to take back his family’s claim.

Just as he crosses the line in the trees marking Hale land, a sense of wrongness settles in his gut. He can’t tell what it is, but it sets him on edge. They’re still about ten miles out from Beacon Hills, making their way home.

Lifting his head, he lets loose a howl, knowing the rest of the pack will be immediately on alert. He can feel them through the pack bonds and it’s comforting in a way he hadn’t felt during his first time as alpha. As he approaches the old Hale house, still standing like a burnt out husk, he catches the smell of wolfsbane. He freezes, registering a familiar scent layered with terror that is several days old.

Without pausing to think, he follows the scent away from the house. He can feel confusion through the pack bonds and knows that he is exuding worry and unease.

In the end, he only makes it a few miles before he is caught in the shoulder with a tranquilizing dart. He roars, loud enough that he knows the pack hears.

Senses fading, he hears the hunter with the gun whisper excitedly, “It’s an alpha. The chemist is going to be thrilled.”

The other man has a sick grin on his face. “Perfect to test out the guinea pig.”

There is more, but Derek is sliding into darkness, unable to keep himself awake.

\---

Derek comes to with a jolt. The two hunters are dragging him down a concrete hallway, struggling a little under his weight. He barely has time to process before he is thrown into a cell with someone he never wanted to see under these circumstances.

Stiles stares blankly at him, face swollen and bare torso painted with bruises. His arms are shackled to the wall with heavy iron chains. He smells like blood and pain and hopelessness.

It takes a moment for Derek to shake off enough of the sedative to pull himself into an upright position, legs stretched out before him.

Stiles blinks, then starts shouting, “What, now you’re drugging me too?” His voice is ragged and cracks around the words.

The force of yelling seems to take what little energy he has. Head dropping to his chest, he mutters unintelligibly too low even for a werewolf to pick up on. Derek watches helplessly. This is not the kid he left behind in Beacon Hills

“Or maybe not drugged.” Stiles drags his eyes from cell door over to land, not quite focused, on Derek. “How long do you have to go without food or sleep to start hallucinating?”

When Derek doesn’t respond, he laughs bitterly. “Look at me talking to a figment of my imagination.”

He pauses then and really looks at him, almost lucid. “Though you’re usually more talkative in my head, dude.”

Derek is shocked into speaking. “Don’t call me dude.”

Stiles blinks again and shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it. “Whoa. For a second there I thought you were real.”

“Stiles. What the hell happened to you?”

“You know what, fake-Derek? That is none of your business.”

Derek shuffles closer, until his shoulder is against Stile’s side. The chains clank, echoing in the concrete room.

“This is the weirdest hallucination I’ve ever had, man. I can actually feel the heat coming off of you. Freaking werewolves.”

“What if it isn’t in your head?”

Stiles snorts. “He isn’t stupid enough to come back here. He got out.” He drops his chin back to his chest and adds, like an afterthought, “Lucky bastard.” His words are starting to slur together.

Derek feels worry lance through his stomach. “Can I touch you?”

“Depends on if you’re gonna slam me into any immovable objects. No offense, but I’ve kind of hit my limit today.” Stiles snickers a little. “Pun.”

Derek ignores him and carefully places a hand on the back of his neck, veins running black. Stiles groans and melts against his side. After a moment, he opens his eyes. They are clear again, burning with the same intelligent light that Derek remembers.

“Derek?”

Gently, Derek strokes his fingers over Stiles’ neck and down his spine. “How are you feeling?”

But Stiles is already panicking. “Shit. Shit. Shit. How did they find you?”

“Stiles, calm down.” Derek injects some of his new found Alpha power behind it.

It is enough that Stiles slumps against him, exhausted.

After thinking a moment, Derek asks, “Where is Scott? He and your father must be looking for you.”

“Scott isn’t coming.” Stiles’ voice is broken and awful. What did Derek miss? “We’re not…I’m not pack anymore.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Derek runs a soothing hand over Stiles’ back, still leaching pain from his various injuries.

“But nobody’s looking for us and we are going to die here because I can’t give these people what they want.” The panic is back, Stiles’ heart thundering.

“What do they want from you?” Derek asks, voice even.

“Information about druids.”

“Why?”

Stiles scoffs. “Because apparently they think I am one.”

“Are you?” That would explain a few things for sure.

“I don’t know. Deaton said I had a spark, whatever the hell that means.”

Which means the hunters are torturing him for information he doesn’t have. Shit.

“We aren’t going to die here.” Derek says, his conviction not even faked. “Right now, I have six werewolves and two humans looking for me. I won’t leave you.”

“You found a pack?” Stiles sounds happy for the first time since Derek found himself on the floor of this dingy cell.

“Yeah, Stiles. I found a pack.”

Stiles relaxes, then goes rigid at the sound of a door down the hall slamming open. Their captors returning. Derek shoves Stiles behind him, not like he has much of a choice, the chains at his wrists still keeping him in place.

The hunter throws the door open and Derek lunges for him. He’s crashing to the floor before he even registers the feeling of the dart in his neck. Immobilized, he’s forced to watch as the gun-wielding man that smells of strange chemicals unlocks the chains from Stiles’ wrists.

Stiles flinches away from the man, but doesn’t resist as he gets hauled to his feet. As Stiles is being dragged from the room, he pitches his voice quiet enough that only a werewolf would hear.

“It’s gonna be okay, Sourwolf.”

\---

Once the tranquilizer wears off, Derek begins to pace restlessly around the room. He hurls himself against the door, picking himself off the floor as he curses the heavy reinforcements. Down the hall, he can hear the murmur of voices, punctuated by choked off noises, like Stiles is refusing to cry out. Derek tries not to imagine what they are doing to provoke the sounds.

He has no idea how much time passes, but he almost wears himself out. When the door opens again, Derek dodges the hunter’s electric cattle prod in favor of catching Stiles before he can collapse to the floor. Their captors don’t bother trying to chain him up again, which sends Derek into another spiral of anxiety.

“Stiles.” He cradles the younger man’s head in his lap.

Brown eyes drag open slowly.

“Stiles, talk to me.” Derek might be begging now, but he finds he doesn’t care.

The smell of blood is heavy in the air. Derek locates the gashes on Stiles’ hands where his fingernails had torn through the meat of his palms. Blood stains the corners of his mouth from where he’s bitten through the insides of his cheeks.

He’s so busy taking stock of Stiles’ injuries that he almost misses the quiet mumble against his thigh. “D’r’k?”

“Hey, stay with me.” He carefully manhandles Stiles into a more upright position.

Stiles takes in his surroundings, looking a little more aware. He leans away from Derek and spits a mess of blood onto the concrete. Derek is worried by how weak he feels.

“I dunno if I can keep doing this.”

Derek’s blood runs cold. “Don’t say that.”

Stiles coughs, more blood splattering the ground. Derek doesn’t know a lot about human injuries, but he’s pretty sure that’s bad. “Sorry.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Don’t apologize.” Derek runs his fingers through hair sticky with blood and sweat. “Just… please try.” His voice drops softer. “I just got you back.”

Stiles hums, leaning more of his weight against Derek. He’s fading quickly. Derek shifts them into the most comfortable position he can manage, spread out on his back, acting as a barrier between Stiles and the freezing concrete floor that is trying to drain the life out of him.

“How about you get some rest and I’ll keep watch?”

It had taken Derek a long time to come to terms with the feeling he harbored for a certain mouthy teen. There is no way he’s going to let this group of hunters take Stiles from him. He continues to send his distress signals along the pack bonds, hoping it will help his betas locate them faster.

As Stiles’ heartbeat evens out, he rubs his face against Derek’s chest. “’sgood to have you back, Der.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello on [tumblr!](https://theproblemwithstardust.tumblr.com)


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